


When The Sun Comes Up

by VisionaryGalaxy



Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [36]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Being a Hero is hard, Boys In Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Insecurity, Loving Tony Stark, M/M, Sad Stephen Strange, Sad and Sweet, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 01:08:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16608956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisionaryGalaxy/pseuds/VisionaryGalaxy
Summary: After Stephen returns from a disastrous battle Tony tries to pick up the pieces.





	When The Sun Comes Up

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to say thank you to Stan Lee for all the joy his comics have brought the world past and present.

   The moment Stephen stepped through his portal and into the dimly lit living room of Tony’s penthouse, the welcoming smile faded from his lips. All it took was a single look for his stomach to twist with unease and worry to settle like a heavy weight in his stomach. Stephen stood there in the center of the room, unmoving, looking horribly lost. His clothes were tattered and dirty, there were cuts and scrapes adorning his face and hands, but so much worse was the lightening storm of agony and sorrow in his eyes.

   Tony stood slowly, afraid of startling the man who didn’t even seem to know where he was. Stephen didn’t react and for the first time he realized the Cloak wasn’t adorning his shoulders, making him look small and lonely. Tony’s heart ached as he moved to stand in front of his lover, didn’t dare reach out yet. Stephen continued to stare over him, unseeing. Being closer did nothing to ease Tony’s fears, he could see bruises blossoming on his porcelain skin, because that was what it was, unnaturally pale.

“Stephen.” He called out quietly. No response.

   Tony didn’t know what to do. For all the time they had been together he had never seen Stephen like this, even at the worst of times. Tony had always felt like the one who was having a crisis, but he usually threw things, and drank, and screamed, this silence was eerie and disturbing.

   “Stephen.” He tried again, a little bit louder now.

   Tears suddenly began to well in Stephen’s eyes, little pools threatening to overflow and that was when Tony saw it. He was rigid, uncomfortably so, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, an almost indiscernible tremor moving up and down his body.

   Tony felt something in him crumble and he wasn’t thinking, just pulling Stephen into a hard hug, utterly incapable of watching the man he love try to be as stoic and unbreachable as ever while hurting so badly. Tony wrapped his arms around him, squeezing until Stephen responded, his own suddenly latching on, his body bending to Tony’s size and his face burying itself in his neck.

   Tony swallowed back his own emotion. “Its ok Stephen. Its ok. Let it out, you don’t have to be strong here.”

   Tony swore he could physically feel the crack as Stephen leaned heavily on him, a horrific, gasping, sob breaking from his lips. The shaking got worse and Tony held him through it as he cried, the wetness slid down his throat, could feel his snot staining his T-shirt where Stephen’s face was still buried. They stood there, Tony staring at them in the dark reflection of the window over his shoulder, trying desperately to keep himself in check and the rolling emotions inside him. He hated how small they looked in the mirror image, how vulnerable the usually strong and imposing Dr. Stephen Strange seemed, wrapped around Tony’s smaller stature.

He wanted to know what happened, of course he did. Usually Tony’s curiosity about all things, especially his lover, was utterly insatiable but at the moment he wanted nothing more then to wipe whatever it was from his memory like it never happened. But that wasn’t the life they lived, it wasn’t an option and never would be. Tony’s job, until he was ready to talk about it was take care of him, and dammit, if there was nothing else Tony was good at it was giving everything he had for his loved ones.

   The sobbing had quieted even if the shaking had not. Tony began to carefully run a hand in comforting circles around his back, squeezing him every few minutes to keep him grounded.

   Finally, he heard Stephen whisper lowly from his hiding place. “I’m sorry.”

   Tony’s stomach turned, and he tightened his grip, the sound of his wet and hollow voice sending shockwaves of _wrong_ through him. “Why are you sorry?” He didn’t dare offer platitudes or reassurances yet, knowing his lover well enough to know it would be rejected.

   “I shouldn’t…I-” It cut off on a shaky gasp, as though he were trying to keep back another sob. “Shouldn’t have-”

   Tony’s hand descended on his head, fingers sliding through and tangling in his hair, pressing him ever closer. “Hey, of course you should have come here. What else would I be doing on a Wednesday night? Paperwork?” His tone was strained as he weakly attempted humor, unsure how it would be received.

   The puff of humorless air against his throat sent a wave of relief through Tony. He hadn’t laughed, not that he thought he would, but he wasn’t angry about it. Feeling some modicum of control for the first time, Tony tentatively pulled Stephen back with a gentle tug on his hair.

   He went willingly, and Tony’s heart broke at the absolutely destroyed look on his face, the emptiness of his eyes, so much worse then the agony of before. Tony’s slid the hand from his hair, down to rest lightly on the side of his neck, the other hand wiped at the tears still spilling down his cheeks. Stephen tried to offer him a weak smile and it was painful to watch.

   Tony shook his head a little. “Do you mind if we get you cleaned up a bit?”

   There was a moment of hesitation, eyes darting away from Tony’s and for a second, he thought Stephen might back away and disappear to the Sanctuary. Tony wouldn’t be able to handle that, couldn’t stand the thought of leaving Stephen alone when he was so wreaked because he knew Stephen wouldn’t let him if their places were reversed.

   But then Stephen nodded slowly, and Tony let his hands slide down his arms, watching for any sign of pain, until he could thread his fingers through Stephen’s. He was gentle, having seen the scrapes there, as he began to pull him toward his bedroom. He followed, eyes downcast, body having gone a little stiff again. It didn’t matter, he would handle that soon enough.

   As they moved through the bedroom and into the bathroom the lights flickered on but stayed low. Tony got the distinct sense that Stephen wanted some form of anonymity no matter how artificial. They were stood in the middle of the room and the lost look began to slide back into his eyes and Tony would not have it, he guided him over to the toilet seat and sat him down gently.

   “Give me just a moment ok?”

   “Yeah.”

   Tony turned away, hated letting go of his hands even just to turn on the bathtub. He carefully tested the water until it was comfortably warm, hoping it would rid the man of his paleness a little. Leaving it to run, Tony grabbed a facecloth and ran it under the sink, feeling Stephen’s eyes on his back the whole time.

   “FRIDAY?” He called out as he turned off the sink and rang out the cloth. “Can you block all phone calls? That includes Pepper, Avengers business, and the end of the world.”

   “Right away Boss.” Came the reply at the same time Stephen let out a weak sound of protest.

   Tony spun around with a raised eyebrow.

   Stephen was back to not looking at him but this time an embarrassed blush was staining his cheeks, even as his voice sounded as hollow as ever. “You don’t have to take care of me Tony, I didn’t mean to….It’s not-” He turned his bright eyes on him finally, wide and helpless.

   Tony made his way over and kneeled in front of him. He said nothing for a moment, just tugged Stephen’s hands out from where they were hidden in the sleeve of his tunic, he needed to tread carefully. If Tony was too overbearing Stephen would leave in a heartbeat, if he was too dismissive Stephen would bundle it away never to see the light of day. He didn’t want either of those things. They had been together for nearly nine months now, and besides their shared trauma on Titan they didn’t talk too much about recent…disasters on missions. Well, Stephen didn’t, Tony usually gave it away with a bottle of alcohol. He wanted to be the rock for once, wanted to prove that he could take care of Stephen the same way he took care of him, he wanted Stephen to _want_ him to.

   He rubbed oh so gently at the dirt coating his hands, barely containing his own wince at the mess there. The dirt caked under his nails hinted at a struggle, the scrapes and bruises probably emanating a pain Tony couldn’t imagine at the moment. Still, remarkable as ever, Stephen bore it in silence, not even twitching at the rub of the cloth.

   “You know I’ve been waiting for an excuse to take a holiday and taking care of you seems like a good excuse as any.” Tony glanced up, hoping he hadn’t swung too hard in either direction. The expression he saw there made Tony breathe easier, for the first time that night something like warmth had seeped into his eyes. His entire posture was still one of grief and defeat, but Tony would take what little victories he could get.

   Tony finished with his hands, paused to turn off the bathtub, now three quarters full and would be just on the edge of spilling over once they both got in. He wet the rag briefly again before going back to Stephen who looked to be drooping further, exhaustion mixing with the all the emotions running through him. Stephen was clearly worn out in every way and God Tony just wanted to make it all better with a wave of his hand. Instead, he went and stood in front of Stephen, making his lover blink up at him. He smiled softly, tilted his chin up with a light push.

   “Close your eyes for me.”

   He did so instantly, and Tony’s heart swelled at the trust there. He began to wipe the dirt from his skin, watching as his lover seemed to relax in increments under his touch. Soon enough it was gone, leaving behind only the little scars and bruising that made him want to punch someone.

   “Done.” He murmured, tossing the cloth into the sink.

   Stephen didn’t open his eyes, he simply leaned forward until he could rest his forehead on Tony’s chest. Tony let his hand run through Stephen’s hair soothingly and waited, he had no reason to rush, whatever his lover needed.

   They stayed there for several long minutes, the silence not in the least oppressing, until Stephen pulled back against his hand and Tony released him. “Ready for that bath?” he asked softly.

   Stephen nodded, standing with a wince. Tony didn’t comment, only began the familiar task of undoing Stephen’s convoluted tunic, amazed at how placidly he stood there, not objecting to Tony’s ministrations, like he usually would. It didn’t take long, until he was sliding the tunic off his long body and encouraging him to step out of it. Next went the pants, and as Tony leaned around him briefly, he froze.

   In Stephen’s side was a large cut, stretching from his stomach and around his side. He hadn’t noticed it in the dim lighting and dirty tunic but now he could see the area stained with blood and as he peered closer, he realized it was still sluggishly bleeding.

   “Stephen?” His voice was tight, carefully controlled as a dizzying mix of anger, worry, frustration assaulted him.

   The man hummed in answer, still unwilling to vocalize much.

   He swallowed thickly. “You’re hurt.”

   Stephen blinked before glancing down at his side. He paused there, staring as if unsure how exactly it had come to be. “Oh.” He whispered.

   Tony’s first instinct was anger. Wanted to demand to know why Stephen hadn’t mentioned his injury earlier. But in a remarkable show of self-restrained Tony simply clenched his jaw, recognized the confused expression on Stephen’s face. He hadn’t known, or at least hadn’t know the severity, too taken by whatever he had faced, by the chaos in his head.

   Tony closed his eyes a moment. “Can you fix it? Its still bleeding and I don’t think a band-aid will do it.”

   He opened his eyes to see Stephen staring down at his trembling hands, hesitating. Tony could only imagine how much they hurt, dreaded whatever was causing this hesitation like he deserved the pain.

   “Please Stephen? For me?” He hated to be manipulative about it, but he was genuinely concerned by the blood seeping out.

   Stephen sighed quietly, moved his hands in a quick configuration and the wound sealed instantly. His lover went back to staring blankly at the wall.

   Tony worked quickly then, wetting another cloth and quickly wiping away blood and dirt from the now very shallow cut, mostly but not quite healed. He tossed that one as well, took Stephen’s hands again and led him over the cool tiles toward the bathtub.

   Stephen stepped in automatically and Tony helped lower him in gently. He watched, feeling gratified when Stephen blew out a low, appreciative sigh, sinking into the warm water.

   Tony had worried it wouldn’t be the right move, that Stephen might decided the moment his clothes had come off that he felt too vulnerable and would flee. He was never so happy to make the correct calculation. It wouldn’t have worked on himself, he knew, when he was upset to this degree, he was defensive, harsh, destructive, not that it ever scared Stephen away.

   “Tony?” He was knocked from his head by Stephen’s voice, shallow and horse.

   “Yeah love?”

   He seemed to hesitate, eyes drawing away again and by God Tony hated that so much. Finally, he swallowed. “You can join me.”

   Tony’s eyes stung, recognizing the plea not to leave him alone, not now. “Ok.” He nodded. “I’ll be right back, I’m just going to get you some water first.”

  There was no protest, so Tony made a quick retreat to get it, practically jogging to and from. He set it on the side of the tub, smiling lightly when Stephen picked it up and downed half of it in one go. Tony stripped quickly and efficiently, tossing his clothes aside in a heap, then he gently guided Stephen to sit up before sliding in behind him.

   Tony’s tub was large, almost ridiculously so. But since acquiring a rather tall, sorcerer, boyfriend it proved its worth ten times over. They fit perfectly together, Tony’s legs stretching out on either side of his lover, and Stephen’s toes just brushing the end of the tub.

   Tony carefully wrapped his arm around Stephen waist and leaned back, bringing Stephen with him, so the man was laying back on his chest. Steam rose in little swirls around them, the water shifting around as it tried to settle. Tony listened to the small breaths escaping Stephen’s lips, felt the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, reveled in each muscle that relaxed against him with each passing second. He glanced down at Stephen’s now flushed face, just as he had hoped. His eyes were closed, but his long lashed fluttered restlessly against his cheek, his expression tightening and loosening as he obviously fought with whatever had upset him.

   Tony would be patient. As he waited for Stephen to come back to him, he took a new cloth, dipped it in the water, rubbed a bar a soap against it gently, then began moving it along his chest in steady soothing circles, intent on removing the grime. He didn’t venture further down, sticking to his abs, pectorals, arms, neck. His other hand began a light petting through his hair, one of his favourite places.

   Eventually, just as the water was on the cusp of cooling, and Tony had been carefully watching for signs of sleep, Stephen spoke again.

   “I almost lost someone important to me today.” Whispered, and heart-wrenchingly broken.

   Tony paused, debated if he should comment or let Stephen get it out at his own pace. He resumed running his fingers through his hair. “But you didn’t?” he asked quietly.

   “No.” Sad, so, so sad. “But I was so busy making sure she was alright that I didn’t see-” He broke off suddenly, expression twisting.

   His eyes were open again, tears appearing as though they had never left. “Shh…take your time.”

   “Three people are dead today Tony. I chose someone I knew, a friend over three other souls. How does that make me any better then a murder?”

   Tony’s gut twisted, nausea sliding up his throat. He swallowed painfully, worked hard to keep his composure and not start spitting out all the reasons that he was wrong. “You aren’t a murder Stephen because in the midst of a fight your first instinct was to protect someone you know.”

   Tony already knew it had to be Christine. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t gotten an alert about a disturbance in that area, but when it came to magic, he rarely did. Tony continued, hugging Stephen closer to him. “Its terrible, horrible, but that doesn’t make it your fault.” Tony swallowed thickly, he was no good at this. “You…We are only human. We try to make the best decisions we can in the moment, and sometimes….We don’t save everyone.”

   “We aren’t supposed to be.” Stephen replied brokenly, one of his hands coming up to cover his face where a sob slipped through.

   “What do you mean?” Tony asked, trying to keep the helplessness from his voice.

   “We aren’t supposed to just be human. That’s the point of what we do, we’re expected to be more, prepared for more-” he broke off, the familiar tremble snaking its way through his body. “One was just a little girl.” He gasped.

   Tony froze, closed his eyes against the image of the mother who had approached him and accused him of not caring about the death of her son in the aftermath of the attack on New York. He didn’t know what to say, because everything Stephen was thinking right now, he thought the same more often then he cared to admit.

   So, he held him. He tugged Stephen until he was flush with him, half turned into his chest as he struggled and let it overwhelm him, while Tony kept up a steady mantra of _let it out, you’re safe here, go ahead scream, let it hurt, I’m here._ All things Stephen had told him through every panic attack and breakdown.

   When the tears came to a stop Tony knew it wasn’t because he was done, but because he had no more tears left to cry. When the shaking slowed Tony recognised it was exhaustion and only exhaustion that made it stop. Tony silently pulled him up and out of the tub, patted him down before he caught a chill, all the while whispering promises of love and understanding even if he couldn’t assure him that he was wrong, Stephen wouldn’t accept it anyway.

   He fished out a pair of Stephen’s pajama pants and one of his own oversized hoodies. Stephen took it gratefully, he was meeting Tony’s eyes now and the guilt he saw there made Tony want to cry himself. Tony dressed himself quickly before leading Stephen to the bed, could see the hesitance in his expression, the fear crowding in of horrible nightmares.

   Tony continued to tug all the same until Stephen allowed himself to be pressed under the covers, rolled onto his side, facing the window where the light of the moon offered some small comfort. Tony curled up behind him, slid a hand into his hair to resume petting while he continued to whisper promises in his ear, patiently waiting for him to drift off.

   As his breathing grew steady Tony pressed a gentle kiss behind his ear, knew he wasn’t quite asleep yet. “Its ok Stephen, rest. When the sun comes up things will look a little brighter.” A familiar phrase uttered by Stephen to Tony countless times. “I’ll watch over you until it does.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)


End file.
